


But It's Hot!

by MissLee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, M/M, Short, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-19 20:36:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11321241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLee/pseuds/MissLee
Summary: Sherlock wandering around the flat stripping because he's 'too hot'... What a bloody tease.





	But It's Hot!

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to be enjoying writing crack at the moment so... here you go!
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://missleeismyname.tumblr.com/)

Nearly twenty four degrees and Sherlock was practically melting (his words). To John, who was used to scorching, dry desert heat this was nothing. He was, however, enjoying his detective being essentially written off due to the weather. 

"John, I'm going to develop heatstroke."

"John, I'm hot."

"John, make it stop."

After he'd ignore every single one: 

"JOHN!" 

Finally relenting, he turned from his seat in his overstuffed chair to a positively criminal sight.

Sherlock had stood up from the sofa ( _his_ sofa) and was beginning to untie his robe to reveal a smooth, taut, pale marble chest. John had just enough mental presence left to not let his mouth hang open in awe as it was sometimes wont to do when he got to witness Sherlock in all his naked, angelic glory. Instead he simply turned back to his medical journal. 

"John, please it's just too much for me," he whined as he slipped the fabric from his bare shoulders. Flimsy pyjama trousers were all that was left to bar him from John.

"I really don't know what you expect me to do, Sherlock."

 _Ok clearly this isn't working,_ Sherlock thought. 

It was hateful, it wasn't even that hot if he was honest with himself, he'd just been horny all morning and John wasn't taking any notice. Sherlock started pacing. Then playing his violin. Then torturing it. Anything to get Johns attention.  _Still. Not. Working._

Meanwhile, John was studiously  _not_ looking at Sherlock, having worked out exactly what he was up to following his huff at John for not paying him any further mind. It didn't take the worlds only Consulting Detective to work out the flush working its way up Sherlocks throat wasn't from the heat, but instead from his steadily burgeoning arousal (completely undisguised by the aforementioned flimsy pyjamas). 

Subtlety was getting him nowhere and he was frankly becoming desperate. 

Sherlock came to stand directly in front of Johns chair, but maybe a pace or two out of reach, and turned so he was facing away from the object of his desires. Slowly, ever so slowly, Sherlock folded himself at the waist to drag his bottoms down with a shake of his delectable arse. They slipped to the floor with a soft thud and suddenly Sherlock was hard and naked standing flushed and needy in front of the open windows.

John was on him in an instant.

He'd lept up from his chair, incapable of ignoring Sherlock any longer, and veritably pushed Sherlock head first into his own leather arm chair with his knees on the floor, bearing his arse for Johns perusal. 

Immediately John grabbed the two firm globes of his cheeks and spread them to reveal a tight little hole, twitching with how ready it was to be toyed with. 

Sherlock groaned as John began licking and sucking at his entrance. It was going to be a rough ride if his current enthusiasm was anything to go by. More than once Sherlock keened at the little nips he received, likely a small reprimand for having been flaunting himself all day. 

"John, John, please, I need it, I'm ready, just fuck me!" 

Breaking the seal he'd had over Sherlocks arse for a moment John growled, "Oh no, you can wait, mister." And promptly resumed his task. 

Sherlock began bucking back to try and get more of Johns tongue in his arse but he wouldn't be swayed. John merely continued to lick and suck as he pleased, driving Sherlock insane with want. 

"I'll do anything! John please! I'll even clean the fridge out and not put anything even remotely decaying in it for a fortnight, just please, fuck me," he groaned with a distinctly ragged voice. 

With a deep laugh John drew back and pulled his hard cock from his trousers, "Oh alllllll right..." he smiled with a put upon huff, "since you promised." 

Sherlock almost sobbed with relief as he felt John push into his barely-stretched arse. He set up a brutal rhythm that Sherlock did his best to meet thrust for thrust. 

They both came with a shout and a moan and as John softened and slipped out he mumbled: "I'm going to hold to you that you know." 


End file.
